His jaw clenched. “I should have told you about the job. It was a shock, getting that call. And I don’t know what it means yet. But I have never, ever, felt this way before. About anyone. I’m losing my goddamn mind over you.”
“Glad we’re on the same page,” I said, voice faint. I was dazed, staring at his mouth, too caught up in this moment to give a shit about the future. I pictured myself on the edge of that stage down there, young and wild and unafraid. I’d trusted the outstretched hands would catch me. I needed to trust that Max would catch me.
I removed my right hand from his, reached forward. Stroked my fingers across his forehead, touched his silky hair. Trailed them down his cheek to scratch along his jaw. The emotion in his eyes tripled.
“That almost-kiss yesterday, on the bike, it wasn’t my best work,” Max said. “I’ve heard first kisses are kind of important. I’d hate if I didn’t deliver.”
I let my fingers trace his full lower lip. Desire washed over me so powerfully I swayed on the table. “Who am I to deny you more opportunities to convince me that your bold claims of sexual prowess are actually true?”
“I happen to have a single-minded focus when it comes to kissing. I’m dedicated, princess.”
We shared a single, ragged breath. I closed the remaining distance between us, brushing my mouth against his.
“Then prove it,” I whispered.
Max kissed me.
I never knew this scary free fall could be so sweet. But his mouth was sweet. Sweet like honey, tempting and soft. He was holding back, giving me the reins on these first precious moments of our very first kiss. Which I appreciated. He knew this rule-breaking risk needed to begin on my terms because I was the one who’d created the restrictions in the first place. So I explored everything I’d previously denied myself. Tilted my head and kissed Max again, harder this time. Curled my fingers into his shirt and held him still, licking along the seam of his lips. Opening his mouth to me.
He was shaking.
I was shaking.
A hushed groan came from somewhere deep inside him, somewhere primal and erotic in equal measure. The sound sent my tongue licking boldly into his mouth.
Max opened wider, brushed his tongue against mine.
It was like touching a live wire.
The shock of our connection, the sharp spike of lust, had me fisting the collar of his shirt and tugging us closer. With a growl, Max scooped one strong arm around my ass and yanked me firmly against his waist. I clung to him, as I was briefly airborne, until he sat us back down in that office chair. It was an impressive show of strength and control.
I straddled Max, up on my knees, and his hands cradled my face like he’d never, ever get enough of tasting me. We parted on a panting inhale, mouths barely apart.
“Quick question.” His chest rose and fell rapidly.
“Uh huh?” I was liquid, mindless, all nerve endings and arousal.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good.” His mouth slammed back on mine before he even finished speaking. He was no longer holding back, but that didn’t speed up his slow, deliberate exploration of this fraught first kiss.
Single-minded focus.
I’d demanded he prove it to me, and now he was. His lips moved confidently as he leisurely stroked our tongues together, as he fisted his fingers in my hair and tugged. How foolish I’d been, to think I could kiss Max and go on existing as a human woman, doing simple tasks like breathing or thinking.
I was comprised solely of cravings now, a hungry blend of need and desire that could only be satisfied by Max’s mouth. He kissed me like an expert. And there was nothing I could do now except forget about every ambitious goal I’d ever believed in when it came to love and romance.
My only goal from now on was to be kissed by Max, kissed like I was the only woman he wanted, kissed like he was as obsessed with me as I was with him. Contracts and legal language were a paltry defense against this onslaught of lips and teeth and tongue.
I rose up on my knees, forcing his head to tilt back. Wrapped my arms around his neck and enjoyed the lazy, sensual sensation of his palms skating up my thighs beneath my dress. Like he had no plans except to touch me.
My only plan was to drive him past the point of focus.
I dragged my mouth down his throat and licked up the side, tasting salt and sweat. Then I closed my teeth around the skin of his neck and bit him. Max hissed in a shocked breath but cupped the back of my head. Holding me there. I licked the spot, then moved an inch higher and sank my teeth in again.
Max growled this time and yanked my head to the side, mouth at my ear not a second later. “I should have known beneath all those prim fucking suits was a bad girl that liked to bite.”
“I don’t fuck nice either,” I murmured. And was rewarded with his soft, sexy laughter against my skin. He kept my throat fully exposed and kissed me slowly beneath my ear. Used his lips, his tongue, his teeth, to chart a long, devoted path from my ear to my collarbone. Then did it again, moving up, up, up until he gripped my face and kissed me hard. I needed to be devoured by Max, needed to do the devouring. His fingers slipped beneath the strap of my dress. The soft material slid down the ball of my shoulder. His lips landed there, licked that extra-sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder.
I wasn’t going to survive this.
His tongue wandered along my collarbone, licked the swell of my breasts. I rocked slowly, steadily against his giant, jean-clad cock and grinned like a temptress when he groaned so loudly I had to slap my hand over his mouth. But that only lasted a moment before our lips met again. It was a decadent feast, an almost brutal expression of our explosive lust. His hands moved to my ass, squeezing roughly, moving me in tight circles against his cock. Max pressed his nose and lips to my hair, breathing me in like he was worried we’d never kiss again if we stopped.
But then he did.
I was on his lap, legs wrapped around his waist, fingers tangled in his shirt. His hands held my face. We panted heavily, cheeks flushed, lips swollen. If my hair looked anything like his, it was currently rivaling my worst bedhead. In fact, it probably resembled a just spectacularly fucked look, even though we hadn’t or even gotten close to it.
That was how good Max was at kissing.
His thumb stroked my cheek. “I believe you broke your contract for me.”
“I know.” I smiled at him, watched him blush deeper. Beneath that cocky, bad boy look, this man was cute. “I thought I might give bravery a bit more of a try. Strategize less. Kiss you more.”
His eyes closed, like he was in pain. “I want to spend a week straight with my tongue buried in that pretty pussy of yours. If I got you into my bed right now, Fiona, we would never leave.”
I tried to kiss him again. “That sounds like a great idea.”
He kept us apart though. “You told me that the next man you fuck is going to be a man looking for something deeper with you. Not a temporary fling.”
Ice flooded my veins. Fear, worry. Please don’t let this be a mistake. “That’s still what I want.”
Max kissed my cheek. It was so sweet I had to blink tears away. Then he whispered, right against my ear, “I’d like something deeper with you, Fiona. And I’m scared out of my mind about it. But I trust you.”
The shock of his admission sent me wrapping my arms around his neck. I pressed my lips to his cheek, his temple. Trust. That’s what was missing from my list and from every relationship prior to this one.